When it’s a chain around your
neck.
Well, or when it’s a maisonette
flat; and that’s what I have to keep reminding myself. Because that was the
other option.
You see, I’m just putting the
finishing touches to my house. Well, the touches that will finish it ‘for me’.
There will be one, minor (almost insignificant) room not done. It will be a
shame not to get around to that last room (this is the guy who ploughed on with
Moby Dick for six years because he couldn’t leave a book unfinished) but
London’s calling.
And not a moment too soon. In
fact, almost too late.
I had a plan to move to London by
the time I was thirty. Now the plan is to be there by the time I’m thirty five
– the end of this year. Unfortunately London By Thirty was plotted after I
bought the house and probably wasn’t very realistic – a hope rather than a
plan. The house has been the show-stopper, the ball-and-chain around my neck.
Now, there are a set of
circumstances that ended up with me getting the house; particularly money and
timing.
I was on a limited budget. The
vast majority of the places that I could buy at the time I was looking were
maisonette flats on a particular estate. This property came up and on the first
day it was on the market there were a dozen of us looking at it. That’s what
the market was like at the time.
Now, the house itself has been a
good investment – certainly better than any of the maisonettes would have been.
The house has increased in value, whilst the maisonettes haven’t at all. There
are too many of the maisonettes – around 70 of them on that particular estate –
and they are starter homes. Therefore, as people only tend to stay for a couple
of years then move on or marry, there are always half a dozen or so on the market;
supply far exceeding demand.
And the house itself has been
better than one of the maisonettes ever could – it was so much closer to town,
it had a garden, has a lot more space.
But…
It had a LOT of work that needed
to be done to it. Perhaps more than I expected. Certainly what was more than
expected was the length of time certain jobs take. For example, it has taken me
two weeks to paint the hall and landing. Now, a lot of the time issues are
around my lifestyle – the reason it has taken two weeks is because I only get
to work on it of an evening, Monday to Thursday. I’m often busy over weekends.
But the house has progressed at a
pace which has been commensurate with my budget. Even if I could have done it
quicker, I couldn’t have afforded to do so. Well, not without taking out
significant loans (or going down to London significantly less).
I suppose there was always the
option of not buying. I could have stayed living with my parents (I would
probably have ended up in London within days rather than years!) or I could
have rented. But my family aren’t renters – it was instilled in us from a very
early age that you don’t rent. It’s dead money. You get on the property ladder
as quickly as possible and start paying into your equity. And, to be fair, I
wouldn’t have paid out any more in legal fees to buy and sell a maisonette as I’d
have paid out in rent; it just might’ve taken longer to sell.
Now, add in the economic crisis.
I was made redundant six months in. I managed to get myself another job, but it
was supposed to be temporary. It was temporary for a full four and a half
years. Jobs just dried up, so there was no chance of a move, even if the house
had been ready.
So this perfect storm of
circumstances has meant that London By Thirty just wasn’t a reasonable target,
much to my frustration. But now the worlds are aligning (well, aside from the
London housing market) to pull me down to London as quickly as possible – I’ve
been in my better job which pays me considerably more long enough to replace my
kitchen and finish off four of the remaining five rooms; and long enough that
it looks good on my c.v. to be wanting to move on.
And, it’s only a few months until
I’m thirty five.
